


Home from New York

by glitteredsins, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Antony Starr and Stephen Amell [123]
Category: Actor RPF, Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, Banshee (TV) RPF, Canadian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), New Zealand Actor RPF, The Boys (TV 2019) RPF
Genre: BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 14:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18251276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitteredsins/pseuds/glitteredsins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: In Citadel, Antony Starr is an AU (alternate universe) character. He tells people he's an IT Risk Management and Computer Security Consultant (his official cover) but really he's a ex-military, sometimes mercenary, computer hacker and master thief hired by collectors and other ruthless people to steal for them: art, jewels, money, information... Citadel knows Antony's true occupation and he would never target the organization or any of its membership. Through Cit, he's met Stephen Amell (played RL) and fallen hard. This is their story.





	Home from New York

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Antony Starr/Stephen Amell storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read).

The papers signed for the smaller loft, Scott had presented Antony with the developer's counter offer which Antony politely declined, letting Scott know he'd be willing to honour his original offer if they came to their senses in the next few days. That done, they'd filed an early afternoon flight plan and, after touring Antony's new offices and grabbing a light lunch, headed back to L.A.

A Citadel car dropped them home and Antony grabbed their mail, checking with the front desk for any parcels before they headed upstairs, the penthouse elevator taking them straight there. "Wait here," he says with a smile as they step out into the foyer. "Give me your bag," unlocking the front door and dropping everything just inside.

Stephen shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets, shuffles from one foot to the other while Antony is gone. He's an idea where his husband has gone and his belly has started fluttering with nerves. "Idiot," he murmurs to himself, of all the things to feel nervous about this... really shouldn't be it.

Antony returns with the antique box housing Stephen's slave collar and sets it on the table in front of them. He opens the box, revealing chain and lock. "This is yours," he says quietly. "Yours to wear as mine. In our home, at the Club... A symbol of what we are to each other. Of my ownership. Sir and boy. Master and slave. But this time it comes with the expectation that you be you, my _partner_ in those things. My lover and my husband. I don't want 'perfect', I only want perfect for me and you're already that, just by being you."

Stephen hadn't expected the words, hadn't prepared himself for Antony's heartfelt declaration. He looks from the box to his husband's face, can see just how important this is, how much Antony would have lost if Stephen hadn't found his way back to this level of submission. Stephen reaches out to take Antony's hand in his. "I promise. I promise I will meet you in this, as your partner, I will bring all the parts of me to each aspect of our relationship." And with that, Stephen drops to his knees, Antony's hand still caught in his, bringing it to his mouth to press a kiss to the back.

"I love you," Antony says, his chest tight, the words not even close to what he feels for this man. For Stephen. His everything. He reaches behind and unfastens the day collar, placing it gently in the box. Takes out the slave collar and lays it around Stephen's throat. It feels like forever since last saw it there.

Stephen shivers as the cool metal settles against his skin, and he huffs out an amused noise at the goosebumps that prickle down his arms. He looks up, his head tilted a little as he watches his lover. "I love you too Tony, Sir... darling man."

Antony smiles, eyes crinkling as he fastens the lock into place. "Mine," he says.

"I was never not that," Stephen returns with a bright smile of his own. The weight of the collar is once more unfamiliar, but instead of feeling sad for that fact he delights in knowing he'll be aware of it for some time until it slides back to being normal.

"I know but I love saying it," Antony grins, pulling Stephen to his feet and kissing him thoroughly.

Stephen's the one that pulls away. "Can we actually go in now? I need to piss, I want coffee, I want to settle back in, call Mom and let her know I am now the proud owner of a New York loft and then we can chill out and maybe, maybe this boy will be allowed the boot time he was rewarded?" Stephen's hands play up and down the Antony's front, playing with the fabric of his top.

Antony smiles. "Yes to the boot time. Say hi to your mom for me." A small frown crossing his face as his stomach rumbles. "I'm starving." They'd only had time for a light lunch and snacks on the plane. "I'm gonna raid the cupboards. You want something?"

"Order in, order in a huge take out of something, we can camp out in our bedroom, fuck and eat all afternoon," Stephen laughs as he pulls Antony into the penthouse.

Antony groans, the idea appealing very much, thank you. "I'll order, you go call your mom," he says, heading straight for their basket of delivery menus.

"Yes Sir!" Stephen laughs and takes their bags through to the bedroom, dumping them on the bed and picking up the phone handset from beside the bedside to thumb through the buttons to call his Mom. He wanders around the room as he chatters to her, giving her his news, catching up as he unpacks with one hand, dumping clothes in the laundry bin and returning wash bags to the bathroom.

Antony orders a ton of Chinese from their favourite restaurant. More than enough to feed an army as they say, but hey, he likes leftovers when it's Chinese. And he's _starving_. He checks his texts, his emails, fires off a few quick replies as needed, _finally_ invites Marcus for dinner, checking their calendar to make sure it works with Stephen's schedule.

"I'm going to shower, you want to join me?" Stephen's returned the phone to its cradle and started to pull his clothes off. He steps into the hall to call down to the living room. "Though it's shower only Mr!"

"I can behave myself," Antony calls back, making his way to the bedroom. "Next Friday okay for having Marcus over for dinner? Your schedule says you're free."

"Yeah sure, I promised him your gnocchi, so as long as you're good to make that? I'll take care of dessert," Stephen flips the shower on waving his hand under the water to test its temperature. It'll be amusing to have Marcus over, not just because the man is a little odd, but that in all the years they've known each other Antony hasn't appeared to let his 'right hand man' this far into his personal space before. Some twisted part of Stephen will delight in watching them figure it out.

Antony strips down, tossing his clothes in the hamper and presses a kiss to the back of Stephen's shoulder. "I'll make gnocchi. Burnt butter and mizithra cheese or tomato basil sauce?"

"Burnt butter," Stephen grins as he steps in under the water. "And salad and garlic bread," Because there's no way Stephen's going to pass up a carb binge prepared by his husband.

Antony sighs playfully. So put upon. Then grins, joining Stephen in the shower. "Okay, but what are you making for dessert?"

"Oh, I'm sure I can come up with something suitable, I'll just have to have a look through some recipe books, maybe try something new?" Stephen turns to face his husband, sliding his arms up around his neck.

"Sounds good. You can experiment on Marcus," Antony says with a laugh, kissing Stephen, hands moving over his back.

"You make it sound like it'll be hit and miss if I produce something edible!" Stephen pouts at the teasing. When Antony is home, Stephen is all but banned from the kitchen, but when his husband is away, he takes care of himself, just like he did before they moved in together - whilst he'll never be considered a master chef, Stephen is more than capable of following a recipe with a high expectation of success.

Antony laughs and protests, "That's not what I meant." He starts to explain but decides that pretty much anything he says will only dig the hole deeper. "I love you and I love your desserts. Believe me, I wasn't disparaging your cooking."

Stephen makes a noise that implies he's not entirely believing Antony's attempt at placation. He twists around and reaches for the shower gel, holding the bottle for his husband to place his hand beneath.

"Do I get to wash you?" Antony grins, catching a good dollop of soap. "Or does that not count as behaving?"

"You can wash me, but no slipping fingers in my ass," Stephen replies tartly, squeezing a generous amount of soap into his own palm and then discarding the bottle. He rubs the gel between his hands, lathering it up and then slapping both hands, palm down, on Antony's chest.

"There's Chinese coming. I don't think I have time," Antony quips, rubbing his hands together and then over Stephen.

The next few minutes is spent in a slippy, bubbly dance under the water as they both try and clean the other at the same time. In the end it's Stephen with the 'slippy fingers' as he teases his husband a little too intimately during a pretence at washing off the soap bubbles clinging to his lover's fine and firm ass.

"Hey! And here I was, behaving," Antony says, giving Stephen a slightly wounded look. He grins and grinds against his husband, giving him a quick firm kiss before reaching around to turn the shower off and grab their towels from the rack.

"I never said I would," Stephen points out taking a towel. "And I don't get to worship that ass nearly as much as I ought to." He eyes his husband as he steps out of the shower and winds the towel around his waist. "I should remedy that."

"There's already boots planned for tonight," Antony reminds him.

"And that is for your boy..." Stephen moves in, runs his tongue along the wet skin of Antony's shoulder before playfully biting the meat of it. "I was talking about it as your lover, your husband."

"Well, you said worship," Antony points out, covering for the slight flush spreading down his throat and across his upper chest with some very vigorous towelling. "And I'm not objecting, just saying."

"I don't get to worship you out of role? You don't worship me when we're intimate?" Stephen turns it back on his lover as he dries himself off. "Because I know I feel like I've been worshipped in the past."

"Of course you do," Antony says with a sigh. Fuck. Words sometimes. He dries between his toes. "You can worship my ass anytime you want, in or out of role."

Stephen's grin is positively wicked. "Any time? Right. Noted," he huffs out an amused noise and finishes drying himself whilst watching his husband.

"Are you plotting?" Antony asks, eyes crinkling as he hangs his towel to dry.

"Fantasising," Stephen counters, setting his own towel aside. He brushes his fingers over Antony's hip as he passes by out to the bedroom. "Sweat pants?" he calls out.

"Yeah, thanks," Antony calls back, still smiling at the casually intimate touch. "I'll get the food when it comes. Do you want to grab plates and stuff?"

"'Kay." Stephen fishes out a pair of sweat pants for himself and tugs them on before pulling out a matching set for Antony, he delivers them with a smile before wandering down to the kitchen. "I'm assuming 'n stuff' means beer?" he murmurs to himself as he pulls out plates, cutlery and two pairs of chopsticks - whether they are used or not will depend on how hungry they both are. He pulls out some beer and glasses humming softly to himself as he moves around the kitchen.

"Where are we eating?" Antony asks, coming into the kitchen, phone in hand again, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Depending on their mood, it could be at the island, the table, the couch or their bed. "You want to watch something?"

"Yeah, lets 'couch picnic'," Stephen smiles, loading all the things onto a tray. "Stick a movie on, if you think we'll last that long?" he teases, appreciating the way Antony's stomach is cut above the waist band of the pants.

"If it's not too long a movie," Antony grins, quickly texting Marcus in response to a couple of questions and answering their landline as the front desk rings. "Yup. Thanks. Bring it up." His grin widens and his stomach rumbles. "Food, glorious food is here."

"Dear god, you make it sound like you haven't eaten for days," Stephen laughs as he unloads the tray, rearranging the coffee table accordingly.

"I can't help it if I still have a teenager's metabolism," Antony protests, eyes crinkling.

"And there's me having to work my ass off every time I have a donut binge," Stephen pouts. Though it's not strictly true - until Antony had returned from his most recent trip Stephen had spent so much time working out - as a means of distraction and a way to deal with the absence - that his body fat ratio had dropped to a point his trainer had started telling him to eat more.

"Only because your job demands it," Antony says, heading for the door as the bell chimes. "You're still in amazing shape even when you're not working."

Stephen contemplates that while Antony's gone - it's true, he's always taken care of himself, but being on Arrow has taken it to a whole new level, and on the whole he does enjoy the challenge, and he certainly enjoys Antony's appreciation of his efforts.

"Would you want me like this, even if I didn't have to for work?" He asks this as Antony returns with a large pile of take out.

"I wouldn't complain," Antony says, already tearing open bags, "but I still find you hot as hell when you're not as cut."

"I kind of meant would you ever consider making it a part of our contract?" Stephen busies himself opening cartons and peering in, his mouth actually watering as his nose is assailed by the delicious smells emanating from the food.

Dumping piles of various dishes onto his plate, Antony thinks about that. "Maybe. But only within reason. I wouldn't want you to not be able to enjoy food or get as obsessed with working out as you were when I was away."

 _Obsessed_ Stephen glances up at that, pausing mid spoonful, unable to hide his surprise. _Did Christos talk? Did I say too much?_ He blinks, then returns to his task of loading up his plate.

"Would you want me to?" Antony asks, looking up, his plate full.

"I don't know. I was just wondering, because you've never not known me like this," Stephen shoves a fork into some noodles and twirls them around. "And I know you get off on showing me off, like you did yesterday." He's referring to their scene at the club.

Antony nods, settling back, plum sauce drizzled over a spring roll. "I can't imagine not finding you attractive," he says, thinking it through. "I'm still at that point where you walk in the room and I just..." he smiles. "I can't believe you're mine. I wouldn't want you overweight because of how unhealthy that would be and what it would mean for our life together, but you have so far to go before you'd ever even be in that realm it's like talking about you sprouting horns. You weren't as cut when we were on our honeymoon but neither was I and I think it's healthy to give your body that break every once in a while and you're still in fantastic shape. So for me, it's more about you being healthy, feeling healthy, feeling comfortable in your body, able to do the travelling and adventure stuff we like to do."

Stephen nods at that, smiling to himself at the 'I can't believe you're mine' comment. "Yeah - I've always taken care of myself, been active and mostly watched what I ate, but I've never been in this kind of shape before, and it is hard work, and I do resent having to be careful about what I eat sometimes, but it's worth it. As you say, we get to be active, do the things we want to do."

"Exactly," Antony nods, cracking open a beer. "Hey. What did your mom have to say about your news?"

"She was pleased, liked the idea I'd be spending some time nearer so maybe they could visit," Stephen pauses to eat a mouthful of food before continuing, "though I have no idea why they think they can't haul their asses down here."

"You should remind them we have a second bedroom," Antony says, popping a piece of spring roll in his mouth, adding quickly, "or we can put them up in one of the building's guest suites."

"I'm not inviting them to stay here," Stephen waves his fork around to indicate the penthouse. "A guest suite would be entirely more sensible." He grins at his husband. "See, even I'm getting all precious about our space."

"And you don't even have any secret squirrel stuff," Antony says, grinning back.

"Oh you mean apart from the closet full of sex toys, leather sex clothes and a pile of porn?" Stephen's brows rise at that.

Antony almost chokes on his mouthful. He wipes his lips with a napkin and laughs. "I wasn't even thinking of that. Suite it is."

"I'm not sure which I'd be more freaked out about my parents finding: your gun stash or our kinky sex stash." Stephen shakes his head and shoves a piece of beef in his mouth.

"Kinky sex stash," Antony decides easily. "The guns can be explained by my work."

"Yeah you try running that past my Mom," Stephen mock shudders. "Anyway, it's a moot point, I'm happy to have them over for dinner, show them our home, sans sex pictures of their one and only child, and then ship them off to stay somewhere else."

Antony laughs. "You should push them for dates. If they're anything like my parents, they won't ever come up with anything on their own."

"I'll sort something for when I'm done filming, and before we hurtle off anywhere exotic," Stephen promises.

Scooping more chicken onto his plate before he's even finished everything else, Antony grins at Stephen. "Any idea where that somewhere exotic is?"

Amused at Antony's apparent and unusual greediness Stephen offers a shrug. "Well exotic is comparative, but how about Scandinavia? Somewhere like that?"

"I've been to all those countries before but only for work," Antony says, nodding as he takes another drink from his beer. "It'd be fun to actually explore them."

"I think Sweden might be cool, some museums to check out, and then maybe we can hop up to Iceland on the way home?" Stephen reaches for a handful of prawn crackers and nibbles on the edge of one. "Full on tourist shit rather than pretending to be mountaineers."

Antony laughs. "If we go to Switzerland sometime, we have to do some climbing, otherwise I'll rein in my urges," he promises, popping another piece of chicken into his mouth.

"You really got off on that hiking huh?" Stephen looks up from his plate, Antony's mentioned more than once about wanting to do something similar again, even going so far as to half joke about an Everest climb.

"I like hiking and climbing," Antony says with a shrug. "You'd think I get enough of that with work but it's different, doing it for yourself, getting to really look around - not worrying about who else is out there."

 _...not worrying about who else is out there..._ It's another of those throw away comments that Stephen files away, almost without thinking. "It's the personal challenge, I get that, that's what I get from my work outs, pushing myself, seeing what I can push myself to," he pauses, frowning in thought, before adding. "And not unlike when I push myself for you, in a scene."

Antony nods. "Challenge, adrenaline, endorphins, pushing yourself, overcoming what you think are your limits or the limits others have put in place... it's amazing how many of the things we love are about that."

Stephen considers that for a moment before nodding. "Yeah I guess you're right, I never really thought about it like that before."

Antony grins. "I'll still give up on hiking or climbing when we visit Scandinavia. At least anything more than a couple of hours," he clarifies, eyes crinkling at their corners. "You can sleep in and I'll go early. Be back before you're up."

"And have me wake up without you there?" Stephen's pouting is epic. "I love how you smell in the morning, all sleepy and sexy."

"I won't go every day, just one," Antony promises, leaning in to nuzzle the side of Stephen's throat. "Every other morning I'll be there, in bed with you."

Stephen tilts his head, eyes sliding shut as Antony's breath plays over his skin. "Promise?" he murmurs softly. "Waking with you... I treasure that." Because there are so many mornings he wakes when Antony is missing from their bed, his husband far away doing who knows what.

"Cross my heart," Antony murmurs, pressing a kiss to Stephen's collar. "Every morning but one."

"Deal," Stephen stays perfectly still, letting Antony nuzzle and kiss him, loving this intimacy. An intimacy that has reached new depths in recent weeks, the time out from their kink having paid off in ways Stephen could not have predicted. "I love you darling man."

"And I love you," Antony murmurs. He draws back to finish what's on his plate, but his thigh stays pressed against Stephen's and he can't stop smiling.


End file.
